TEN. IV.

1. Grey. The outdoor sofa and the crunching river rock and the cardigan and the sky.

2. Hot tea. Lady Grey. Sweetened and with a splash of heavy cream. The ritual of it all. Fill the kettle, ignite the flame, listen for the whistle.

3. White linens.

4. I'm going to do yoga when I wake up, I tell myself before falling asleep. But . . . when I wake up, I just want to be outside, on our deck. And this is self-care, too.

5. I will never, never be a warm weather person. Give me a day's high of 70ºF and I'd be a happy woman. This 90+ degree weather is just too much. I blame global warming.

Yes, it's a thing.

6. The knowing look on his face when I smile and stare at the filling bookcases and say, "That just really makes me happy."

7. Lavender. The scent, not the color.

8. I'm tired of unpacking already, and there is still so much to unpack.

9. Changing out of leggings just to shower and put on a new pair of leggings. Why do jeans feel so restricting during the summer?

10. Tattoo appointment tomorrow. I feel equal parts masterpiece and masochist.